


Hemlock in Winter

by boopedbyanangel, Soulonoscopist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Cancer, F/M, Human!Castiel - Freeform, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Sick Bobby, human!Gabriel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boopedbyanangel/pseuds/boopedbyanangel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulonoscopist/pseuds/Soulonoscopist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Bobby are doing their best to make their way after losing their home--at least it was for a good cause--when Bobby gets sick. Now, what was a rough life has turned into an all but impossible one. It will take a miracle to set things right again...but maybe there are angels among us, after all. Or, at least, forest rangers with sky-colored eyes and soft spots for strays :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taproot

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (our) first fanfic; so, please forgive me if I haven't tagged something properly. This story has been on our minds for awhile. We hope you will enjoy reading it as much as we enjoy writing it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taproot  
>  noun tap·root \\-ˌrüt, -ˌru̇t\
> 
> the large main root of a plant from which smaller roots grow

Castiel Novak sat at the edge of the vast lake and considered once again the fate of the town buried in order to make this idyllic spot. He loved to come here at night to see the stars over the tall ridge of trees; he was proud to be a part of the regiment tasked with caring for the area.

As a teen, he had floundered a bit before finding his footing through an opportunity to participate in a program with the Forest Service. The social ins and outs of adolescence had sometimes been lost on the blue-eyed bookworm, and certainly his coming out had not gone over smashingly well--in fact, it was the ensuing fight with his brothers and resultant property damage that had landed him the "opportunity" to enter the work program that trained inmates to be firefighters and do other tasks for the Forest Service--; but, in retrospect, that discord may have had as much to do with intractable old world traditions and less than stellar timing than actual hatred on the part of his family. He didn't know for sure--he hadn't spoken to them in years. Cas found no such awkwardness in nature, he found that things fit together in ways that made sense to him. Everything about the work outdoors in solitude suited him. So, upon graduation, he chose to pursue a career as a Forest Ranger.

After a brief and disheartening stint of training with the Border Patrol in Arizona, Cas had headed back to his home mountains armed with quite a few new "peacekeeping" skills and the knowledge that there were, in fact, places even less tolerant than he'd thought his hometown to be.

So, while he remained a valley or two away from where he'd grown up, he nevertheless felt himself calmed by the dense and familiar foliage that made up these woods. He was happy that he'd be working on a project in the upcoming weeks that would help ensure the continued health of the hemlocks that were an integral part of the ecosystem here.

The hemlocks in the Appalachian Mountains were dying from attacks by the Wooly Adelgid, and the damage was so widespread that it had threatened entire ecosystems from trout in streams--that needed the shade--to songbirds that made the heavy forest giants their home. The restoration program was currently replanting young, healthy hemlocks in devastated areas. Some of those areas were very remote. Cas and a few other Backcountry Rangers were helping by escorting groups of scientists and conservators to these destinations. There were dangers deep in the forests, but Cas was well-prepared and confident in meeting them. Getting his hands in the soil was a hoped-for and added benefit to this part of his job. It felt good to have a part in raising something so tiny and yet so important. It took away some of the pain of missing his big family. Sometimes.

That brought him back around to thinking about Gabe. Gabriel Novak was his favorite and the only one of his brothers who stood by him after his fateful pronouncement. He hadn't been in time to help Cas avoid the beating he took at Michael and Rafael's hands, but he rushed in to pick up the pieces and even came to see Cas in jail a time or two--and sneak him sweets when the guards' backs were turned. As Cas' father was absent as usual when everything went down, and his mother had long since passed; that only left his older sister, Naomi, a militant bitch with a desire to grind anyone beneath her bootheel if she had the slightest inkling that they were thinking of getting out of line, to call the cops and tell her version of what happened that evening. Hence, Michael and Rafael were considered the victims of a rebellious rampage by their smaller brother. Despite the lack of physical evidence supporting that scenario, the police nevertheless chalked it up to drugs and hauled Castiel off in a squad car and handcuffs. Cas often wondered if his father would, in fact, want his family to live under such strict rule in his absence. After all, he had seemed to love the raucous nature of his children and their high spirits when they were little. On the other hand, a lot changed when his mother died. Maybe his father thought Naomi had the best chance of holding the family together. Or maybe he just wasn't paying attention. Either way, Cas couldn't imagine Father would have opened his mind and heart to his differently wired son. More likely, he would have thrown the word "abomination" at him just like Michael had. Perhaps his father would have been even slower to intervene than Naomi. Maybe he'd have let Michael and Rafael finish what they started. Maybe Castiel deserved no less.

He swallowed the last swig of his beer on that sour note and began the walk back down the trail to his bicycle. By the time he reached home, he'd worked the day's kinks out of his muscles and had counted four groundhogs, a Red-tailed hawk, a screech owl, and a fox.


	2. Killing Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> killing frost  
> noun  
> 1.  
> the occurrence of temperatures cold enough to kill all but the hardiest vegetation, especially the last such occurrence in spring and the first in fall

"Fuck this fucking day..." Dean Winchester was shivering and stamping his feet after he stepped out into the unseasonable cold. He hated that he knew, just knew, that he wouldn't find enough change rattling around in the Impala to buy the cup of coffee he desperately craved to get his morning started. He hated that the damp would make Bobby cough and hurt more. Hell, he hated that the "blanket" of fog wasn't warm and cozy. Why would anybody call it a blanket when it's so much more like a shroud?

When he came up with the plan of moving them south of their usual haunts, it was in hopes of bypassing some of the worst of the winter weather. Problem was, any area they'd go to had to meet certain requirements. It needed to be remote enough that they could move about without being hassled--that, in itself, ruled out the super-comfy snowbird states, except Arizona and New Mexico--and it had to have game that they could hunt and eat. There went Arizona and New Mexico, neither man having yet developed a taste for coyote. Dean and Bobby had been staying in out of the way state parks, tent camping since fall came and with it the new owners of Singer Salvage. So, Dean hit on the idea of the Great Smokies National Park. Seems it didn't get much more remote in Middle America than 800 square miles of wilderness teeming with water and life. He expected they'd run into more Rangers because it was a busy National Park, but he also figured there'd be more area to disappear into. And disappearing had become a way of life for Dean early on.

He didn't like to look back on those days. Blah, blah, blah, same sad story...alcoholic dad, dead mom, poverty. Sammy was the only light in his life from the day he grabbed him out of the fire that killed his mom and wrecked his dad for family life. Dean would do anything for his little brother, always had, including raise him almost all by himself. But deflecting the abuse John Winchester dealt out off of Sammy had been exhausting and painful. Dean could only take so much before he needed to disappear. On those days, he'd drop Sammy at the library and run into the outdoors. It didn't heal him, but it soothed what it could. There was one benefit to having the dad they did: both Dean and Sam had excellent hunting, fishing, and survival skills. If there was one thing their father excelled at, it was killing those things weaker than he was. A side effect to that was that he sometimes mistook whether something was weaker, hence the survival skills. Dean wasn't keen on killing--he enjoyed catch and release fishing or taking a deer for a winter's worth of venison, and that was about the extent of it. Still, he wasn't one to ignore training that may one day come in handy. So, he paid attention. And he survived. When dad was on a bender, Dean would take Sam and get them both the hell out. Finally, at 17 and 13, he'd gotten them out for good. He took the best thing his dad ever gave him--his beloved car--and went to Bobby's and refused to leave. It was good for a few years, as Bobby knew what fathers who weren't dads were all about. And he had a shotgun. In the long run, it didn't matter because John never came looking, apparently glad to be rid of them after all.

But his mom, man, he missed his mom. Sammy had barely ever known her as she died in the house fire when he was six months old and Dean was four. But Dean remembered her. He remembered being tucked in at night. He remembered her saying he was being watched over by the angels. He wondered what kind of deadbeat asshole angel was assigned to watch over him, letting him live this currently and formerly shitty life.


	3. Conservation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conservation -  
> con·ser·va·tion  
> ˌkänsərˈvāSH(ə)n/  
> noun  
> Planned management and wise use of natural resources for present and future generations.

Well, angel or no, it wasn't going to drop food out of the sky for him and Bobby. Dean needed to get his ass in gear. He was grateful for the empty camping area they'd pulled into a couple of days ago, having the unseasonable weather to thank. Still, you can never be too careful, and he glanced around before popping the trunk and grabbing his rifle. He ducked back into the tent to double-check that it was clean and in working order. No sense trekking all day and then not being able to take down your prey because you got sloppy with weapons care. He sneered, guessing that his old man still wouldn't bother to be proud of him even for this lesson that he'd taken to heart. Oh, well. 

He smiled then and leaned over to pull Bobby's covers more snugly in place before ducking out, hoping his friend would sleep for a good bit longer. Some things simply were not fair, and Bobby could've been the poster child for when bad things happen to good people. He'd had a family tragedy in his young life that'd never completely left him, but that didn't stop him from becoming a kind man. Sure, he was gruff and didn't trust easily, but that made him better in Dean's book. And his motto that family didn't end with blood was, sadly, what landed them out here in the first place. After taking in two damaged boys and loving them like his own, he didn't think twice about sacrificing everything for them.

He'd been nearly as busting with pride as Dean when Sammy graduated at the top of his high school class. The college acceptance letters had been coming in for months by then, but the scholarships had not. One day, Dean found the whole pile of that mail stuffed in the recycling bin and Sammy applying to work full-time as a barista at a local coffee shop. "Hell, no," Dean thought and racked his brain for a way to help his little brother. After crunching the numbers every which way he could and coming up way short, he went to Bobby for advice. Together, they tried to figure out a way to cobble enough cash together to send Sammy to school. Not surprisingly, though, banks just didn't seem interested in lending money to non-parents for a kid's tuition. Somewhat more surprisingly, to Dean anyhow, was that the same banks were uninterested in giving a mortgage loan on Bobby's house or business. Sure, the business wasn't always booming, but it was steady. Seems a scrapyard may have just seemed like it would be too hard to liquidate in the event of what the loan officer believed would be sure default.

As the dog days of summer loomed closer with no change in prospects, Bobby sat Dean down at the kitchen table one sweltering night and laid out a deal that would change all of their lives.

"Now, Dean, you know me--I'm an old drunk who lost everyone I ever had 'cept for you two boys. And you and me ain't meant for much 'cept bein' the greatest mechanics this side of the Snake River, but Sammy, he can do great things. He's a smart kid, and he's got his head on straight. He deserves way better than the hand your father dealt him; so, here's what we're gonna do..."

Dean would already have given his life and everything he had for Bobby Singer, but what happened next served to engrave that vow on Dean's heart deep in stone. 

The plan was relatively simple: they would sell Singer Salvage and use the money to send Sammy to Stanford. He'd never agree to that, though. So, Bobby thought up a cover story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update. I promise the whole story is outlined. Life and school and a new job just got in the way for a bit. Also, that wouldn't even have been such an issue if I were not having such a time finding the right voice for Bobby. Well, I hope you enjoy anyhow. I'm always happy for constructive comments :)


End file.
